


Thoughts on the Beach

by clgfanfic



Category: War of the Worlds (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2017-12-03 04:17:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/694015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A tag to the episode "Among the Philistines."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thoughts on the Beach

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Green Floating Weirdness #21 under the pen name Gillian Holt.

"…if I teach you to shoot, you have to promise me that you won't do anything that would make your mom mad…"

 

          The last tendrils of fog slowly evaporated under the morning sunlight as Debi and the colonel rode along the beach.  Paul watched the teen from the corner of his eye as their horses walked along on the damp sand, scattering the sandpipers.

Debi had been quiet and withdrawn since the incident with Bouchard and he was a little worried about her.  Loosing Guido and Mr. Kensington seemed to have hit her hard.  He knew she had been talking to Mrs. Pennyworth, and Greta had been talking to him and Suzanne, recommending that they tell Debi the truth about the war they were fighting.  He had hoped that they might be able to keep the knowledge from her a little longer, but Suzanne agreed with Mrs. Pennyworth.

Both women had felt that the facts would be better coming from him, and so here he was, out for a Sunday morning ride.  But how did he tell her?

He shook his head.  _Hell, there's days I still don't believe it_ , he thought.

 _No, that's not true_ , he countered.  _There's just some days I deal with it better than others_.

"Debi—" he started, but she interrupted.

"Thank you."

"For what?" he asked.

"Guido's funeral.  It was nice."

Paul nodded.  He had built a small coffin for the dog, and they had buried him next to Tom Kensington.  Two stone crosses had arrived a few days later to take the place of the wooden ones.  When they had placed the permanent markers, he gave Debi one of his Bronze Stars, telling her that Guido had earned it, for his bravery.  She had cried, but gave him a tight, long hug and kissed his cheek.  She hadn't talked about the dog, or Kensington, or Adrian Bouchard since.

"You're welcome.  He earned it."

"Do you miss them?"

"Yes," he admitted.

"Me, too."

The rode along in silence for a while, both of them watching the sandpipers and seagulls.  Paul knew he needed to let Debi set the pace, but he also knew if they got back to the Cottage without his having told her the truth, Suzanne wasn't going to be happy with him.

"Colonel," Debi said at last, "why do the terrorists want to hurt us?"

"I'm not exactly sure, Debi," he said.  "They want to control this pl—"  He stopped, not sure that was the right thing to say.

"Colonel, they're not really terrorists, are they," Debi said, her voice soft.

He took a deep breath and said, "No, they aren't."

"What are they?"

Paul looked over at the thirteen-year-old, his heart aching.  He really didn't want to destroy what was left of her childhood.  "Why don't we go sit and talk for a minute?" he suggested.

She nodded and followed him over to one of the many trees that grew right up to the edge of the sand.  They dismounted and tied their reins to a low branch so the horses wouldn't wander off, then they sat down on the grass that grew under the boughs.

Ironhorse leaned back against the tree trunk, staring out at the Pacific.  "Debi, I know this might be hard to understand, but we're fighting—"

"Aliens?" she interrupted.

He looked at her, his eyebrows arched high with surprise.  "How did you know?"

Debi's cheeks turned rosy and she glanced down at the blade of grass she was holding, slowly breaking it into small pieces as she spoke.  "Last year, after you got back from Ohio, I was still hungry one night so I came downstairs…  I could hear all of you talking in the basement…  I was curious, so I came down the stairs a ways so I could hear better…  I heard Harrison say the aliens had been really smart to try and steal that fever stuff."

 _My God_ , Paul thought, _the Y-Fever encounter with the aliens happened a year ago.  She's known for that long?  And never said anything?_

"Did you understand?"

She shook her head.  "No.  But sometimes I'd come down and listen to you talk…" trailing off, she looked up and met the colonel's eyes.  "I didn't mean to, but I wanted to know what was going on.  Nobody tells me anything."

Paul dipped his head, saying, "I'm sorry, Debi.  If I'd known you'd overheard us, well, I guess this is going to be easier than I expected."

"Were you going to tell me about the aliens?"

Ironhorse nodded.

"Are they really aliens, from another planet?"

"Yes," he said, looking back out at the ocean.  "They're from a planet they call Mor'tax.  Harrison can show you where their sun is."

"Why did they come here?  Why don't they like us?"

"Their planet is dying, Debi.  They need to find a new place to settle, and they want Earth to be their new home."

"But they don't like us.  Why come here?"

"I'm not sure.  Maybe Earth was the first habitable planet they found, maybe it was the closest, but you're right – they don't like us.  They'd like to kill all of us before the bulk of their population arrives."

          "How many are here?"

"We don't know," Paul said with a sigh.

"Is that why you're trying to bring soldiers here?"

"Yes," Paul said, glancing back at the girl.  Just how much had she heard?  He was going to have to be a little more careful in the future.

"Was Dr. Bouchard an alien?"

"Yes, Debi, he was," Paul said.  "He tricked us, but that'll never happen again.  I promise you that."

She looked back down and selected another long blade of grass to tear into bits.  "Do you think Guido knew he was an alien?"

Paul nodded.  "That's very likely."  When Mrs. Pennyworth had reminded him of the dog's reaction to Bouchard when he first arrived at the Cottage, he thought that maybe the dog had picked up the alien's scent.  "Dogs can smell much better than we can.  Maybe Guido could smell the alien."

Debi's brow furrowed.  "Was the alien inside Dr. Bouchard?  He looked normal."

Paul took another deep breath and contemplated just how much he really wanted to tell the teen, then decided that he would answer her questions as honestly as he could.  If she wanted to know, then she had a right to know, especially after ending up in the middle of the battle.

"You mother can explain this better than I can," he started, "but these aliens are about the same size as I am.  But they blend their bodies into a human's."

"Like stepping into their skin?"

"Something like that, yes.  Like I said, your mom can give you the scientific details, but the important thing is that they can hide inside human bodies, so if you just look at one, you can't tell it's an alien."

"Is that why you told me to stay away from strangers?"

"Yes, but that would be true even if the aliens weren't here.  There are plenty of humans out there who, uh—"

"Might want to hurt me," Debi finished for him.  "I know.  Mom already told me about all that."

The colonel nodded, his expression relieved.  _Yay, Mom_.

"So how do you know where the aliens are?"

"Well, they need radiation to survive here, so we can use a Geiger-counter to tell if someone is an alien.  And they have their own language, so if we hear a human speaking Mor'taxan we know an alien's hiding inside.  And sometimes it's just a gut thing."

Debi nodded, her gaze still on the blade of grass.  "How do you kill them?" she finally asked.

The question took the colonel by surprise and he blinked, looking back at the girl.  She was watching him, waiting for an answer.  "Well," he said, "it's like any war, Debi."

"You shoot them?"

He nodded, muttering, "That seems to work just fine."

"Will you teach me how to shoot?"

"Uh, I don't know about that," he said.  "That would be up to your mother.  But listen, I don't want you to think that you need take part in this fight."

She met his gaze for a moment, then said, "But I am part of it.  What if they trick you again?"

 _Her logic's impeccable_ , he thought, _and what can I say?_

"I don't think that's going to happen, but if you'd feel safer knowing how to shoot, and your mother doesn't object, I'll teach you."

"Can I have a gun like Mrs. Pennyworth?"

"Mrs. Pennyworth?" Paul asked.

Debi nodded.  "She has a little gun in her apron pocket."

 _So much for non-combatants_.  "I see.  Well, Mrs. Pennyworth—"

"She was a spy in World War II."

Paul smiled.  "Yes, she was."

"She said this fight is really important.  I just want to be ready, in case another alien comes to the Cottage."

He nodded.  "That's very commendable, but I want you to listen to me, okay?"

She nodded.

"Debi, you're still a young woman.  You're not ready to be a part of this fight.  Not yet.  So if I teach you to shoot, you have to promise me that you won't do anything that would make your mom mad, like try and come with us, or take the gun off the Cottage grounds.  Nothing."

"I promise," Debi said, her expression earnest.

"But you're right, there might come a time when the aliens get onto the grounds, and I want you to be able to protect yourself, if you have to.  But _only_ if you have to, young lady.  That's what I'm here for, and if I get the soldiers I want, that's what they'll be here to do, so I don't want you trying to be a soldier."

She smiled at him.  "Do you think I could be a soldier when I get older?"

He grinned back.  "That, young lady, is between you and your mother."

She rolled her eyes.  "Mom thinks I'm still five!"

Paul chuckled.  "Well, I'm not sure about five…"

"She thinks I'm just a little kid."

He cocked his head to the side and smiled at her.  "Debi, there's nothing wrong with being a child for as long as you can."

"But—"

"Let me tell you a secret," he interrupted, capturing her attention.  "Having you here reminds all of us what we're fighting for.  We want you, and every other child, to grow up in a normal world.  We want you be able to become teachers and scientists, and doctors and soldiers and astronauts.  We want you have a childhood that isn't filled with worry about aliens trying to take over the planet."  She started to object, but he continued.  "I know, you know about the aliens, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't just enjoy being thirteen.  Enjoy growing up, Debi, because once you're an adult it's all you have – your memories, your experiences.  If they're good memories, good experiences, it makes whatever life throws at you a whole heck of a lot easier to take."

She sighed, but considered his words.  "I'll try," she said.

"That's all any of us can do."

"But you'll ask Mom about shooting lessons?"

"I'll ask," he promised.

"Do you think we could ever be friends?" she asked.

He knew she was asking about humans and the Mor'taxans.  "I don't know," he admitted.  "It seems pretty unlikely."

She frowned.  "Do you think there are other aliens out there, nice ones?"

Paul grinned; she sounded an awful lot like Blackwood.  "I don't know that, either, but if I wouldn't be too surprised.  Why don't you ask Harrison about that?"

She shrugged.  "Maybe."

"I'm sure he'd be more than happy to talk to you about it."

"I know, it's just… the aliens make Harrison sad."

Paul nodded.  "They killed his parents."

She looked up, her eyes rounded with surprise.  "They did?"

"In 1953."

"Wow.  He must have been a little kid then."

"Five or six," Paul told her.

"He must've been really scared."

"Just like you were when you saw Guido?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Yes, I'm sure he was.  And there's nothing at all wrong with being scared, Debi.  Fear's a natural reaction when something unexpected happens."

She looked away, mulling his words for a little while, then nodded.  "I guess so.  I don't like being scared.  It makes me mad."

Paul chuckled softly.  "That's normal, too.  And none of us like to be afraid, but it's really a good thing."

"Why?"

"Well, if you can get past that first moment when your body doesn't want to move, it makes you more aware, faster.  You can use your fear."

She studied the colonel for a moment, then stood.  "We better go back.  Mom's gonna get mad if I don't get my homework done."

Paul stood, worried at first that he might have said something wrong, but when she stepped up and wrapped her arms around his waist and gave him a hug, he realized she had just absorbed all she could for one day.  Now she needed time to think.  He guessed that they would be taking another ride in a day or two.

They walked over to the horses, untied them and mounted.  On the ride back to the stables, they talked about school, boys, spies, and the meaning of life.

Debi didn't know it, but the lopsided grin on Paul's face spoke clearly that he had something to learn from her, as well as much to teach, and he was, for the first time, really looking forward to the opportunity to do both.


End file.
